


Duty

by Plume_Sombre



Series: HaiKise week [7]
Category: Kuroko no Basuke | Kuroko's Basketball
Genre: Alternate Universe - Medieval, Angst, Day 7, M/M, Romance, haikiseweek, prompt: AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-07
Updated: 2015-08-07
Packaged: 2018-04-13 13:07:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,097
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4523247
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Plume_Sombre/pseuds/Plume_Sombre
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Prince and knight had duties of their own. / HaiKise.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Duty

**Author's Note:**

> The [medieval AU](http://uneplumesombre.tumblr.com/post/106837130513/medievalau-in-which-haizaki-is-the-prince-and) that no one asked for.
> 
> This is the end, guys!! I was so happy to write all these haikise fics and so happy to see people enjoying and participating! Sad that it came to an end, but I had fun. :3

**Day 7:** AU – duty

 

Ryouta pinched the bridge of his nose and slowly exhaled. _Stay calm._

“So, you haven't seen the prince yet.”

“No, sir,” his interlocutor replied.

“All morning.”

“Affirmative.”

“Despite the fact he had swordplay lesson with you, Sir Shuuzou.”

Shuuzou shrugged, which made Ryouta sigh and think that he should knock some sense into that brat... No, no, he couldn't, he was a knight and had to respect his prince—even if it he _was_ an insufferable brat. Ryouta gave a look at Shuuzou, who probably was as exasperated as he was, since it wasn't the first time the prince ditched his lesson for... whatever he wanted to do.

“I'll go look for him,” Ryouta stated. “I'll make sure he comes to his lesson.” And here Ryouta thought he could trust the prince to spend his morning alone without any problem. Big mistake.

“You know, Sir Ryouta, I think the prince would prefer having fencing lessons from you,” Shuuzou says. “He seems to listen to you.”

Ryouta stared at Shuuzou as if he grew another head, mouth slightly open.

“What? He _listens_ to me? Did you see how childish he gets when I'm around? He keeps doing the opposite of what I say and I feel like he tries to upset me as if his life depended on it! Urg Sir Shuuzou, at least he trains obediently with you.”

Shuuzou snorted but grinned, making Ryouta frown—'obedient' wasn't exactly how he would describe the prince, but well. He simply patted the knight's shoulder and walked away, saying that the day's lesson was suspended. Ryouta wanted to argue but refrained, remembering that they were going to hunt in the afternoon; it didn't leave any room for the lost swordplay lesson. He rubbed his forehead and nodded, before going to fetch his young charge.  
Really, that had not been what he was expecting the day his family had been assigned to assist the second heir; he was five years old at that time and the little boy he was had imagined a glorious and rich and royal life with honor.

Not chasing a seventeen-year-old kid at twenty-two—and probably ready to have white hair.

“Shougo-sama, you skipped your lesson with Sir Shuuzou again,” he chided.

Prince Shougo, grey and tousled hair, sharp eyes and sporting elegant clothes in red hues, was taking a nap at the foot of the tree that was in the garden behind the training area. He had elected this place as his number one escaping spot, although at this point his knight always managed to find him, no matter where he would go—as if he had some sort of radar or something. He cracked one eye open.

“I didn't want to see Shuuzou today,” he offered for an explanation.

Ryouta slightly narrowed his eyes, trying to keep his face neutral and as serious as possible, but he probably spent way too much time with Shougo since the prince immediately saw through his façade.

“Drop the façade Ryouta, I know you wanna smack my head,” he snorted.

“You should not speak in this manner, Shougo-sama,” Ryouta shook his head. “And Sir Shuuzou is beginning to think he is not suited anymore to teach you swordplay.”

Shougo heavily sighed and got up, stretching his numb arms and legs, and looked towards the castle, eyes unusually dull and stripped of their mischiviousness.

“It's not like I don't want him to teach me swordplay, because he's a great opponent,” Shougo confessed—and Ryouta thought that it would be the last time he heard the prince complimenting someone on their skills. “But it's become... boring. We always do the same stuff.”

“You are still in training, you can not possibly fight without knowing the basics,” Ryouta pointed out. “And Sir Shuuzou is one of our best teachers, if not the best.”

Shougo rolled his eyes and suddenly took several steps back, taking off his jacket, and put his hand on the hilt of his sword loosely hung at his waist. Ryouta raised an eyebrow, curious and maybe a bit amused, but his own hand reached his weapon in anticipation. Shougo's lips tugged upwards in a smirk, looking excited and perhaps trying to be threatening, and he drew his sword he pointed at his knight.

“Come on Ryouta, let's have some fun,” he exclaimed. “And stop talking like the shitty nobles, there's no one around.”

Ryouta grinned in turn, and drew his sword as well. The blade was similar to the prince's, thin but strong, looking regal with its golden carvings finely chiseled, the royal blue handle adorned by a yellow stone at each extremity. Shougo's sword was exactly the same, except the golden carvings were silver, the handle was red without stones, but chiseled as well.

“I should try to make you speak like a proper prince when there's no one around, Shougo,” Ryouta laughed. “If Her Majesty the Queen heard you, she'd probably freak out.”

Shougo smiled when Ryouta dropped the formal speaking and took an offensive stance.

“Oh, she heard me alright,” he snickered. “I might or might not have forgotten my manners once.”

“You're incorrigible...”

Shougo shrugged, then lunged forward. His direct attack was easily blocked by Ryouta who kept one arm behind his back, but could swiftly move his sword. The blades scraped against each other and Shougo pulled back, still smiling. He had always been a partisan of raw strength and direct attacks, despite the fact they were countered without trouble—both Ryouta and Shuuzou told him to practice his speed in order to make combos, but he had yet to see results. He tried another attack, this time aiming for the side, but Ryouta dodged and grazed Shougo's bare arm. The prince stumbled a bit but quickly regained balance, glaring at his knight who just kept sweetly smiling.

Then it was Ryouta's turn to attack, not letting any rest to his opponent as every one of his strike was fast and followed by another in no time. Shougo had to step back at every blow, blocking them as best as he could, the clinging sound of the clash of their blades reaching his ears in an off-rhythm music. He had to block right when his blade was on the left, and he had to lift his sword just after he had blocked a strike near his legs. Ryouta seemed to have no difficulty to keep up with the pace he himself had instituted, and at one point he broke his dance; he aimed for the shoulder, directing Shougo's sword to that spot, but he never did a quick thrust and instead slashed upward, ripping the sword out of the prince's hand and giving him the opportunity to point his own to his throat. He grinned.

“I won. Again.”

Shougo scowled, shooting daggers at Ryouta, and swatted the sword away. He picked up his weapon and sheathed it, grumbling, which made his knight chuckle and ruffle his hair.

“See, that's why you still need Sir Shuuzou's training! You can't beat me for another ten years if you skip lessons. Your brother is dutifully following Sir Yukio's instructions, you should do the same. Now, if you please Shougo-sama, shall we return to the castle for a meal?”

Ryouta's hand remained in Shougo's soft locks, and while he thought the prince had a cute face when he expressed his disagreement to the treatment he was getting, he also felt like he was doing something wrong. So he slowly removed his hand, trying to calm his beating heart, as if he had just been burnt for acting inconsiderably—and maybe he was. He made a gesture to walk, but he halted when Shougo spoke in a firm tone.

“When are you going to stop treating me like a fucking kid? I'm seventeen, Ryouta. I'm going to turn eighteen in less than four months. Guess what it means?”

Ryouta frowned, not liking the turn the conversation was getting; it felt awfully familiar and he immediately remembered the exact words that were exchanged the last time they addressed the topic—it didn't end well. His stomach knotted and he stood straighter like it could make the uneasy feeling disappear and hide his anxiety.

He absolutely, really, didn't like the fire that was blazing in the prince's eyes—because it meant he was determined and probably frustrated and maybe ready. Ready to do anything.

“You are going to get married to Lady Satsuki,” Ryouta says, matter-of-factly. “Which means I have to double make sure you will not get into harm's way, and not let anyone or anything remotely dangerous near your future spouse.”

“ _For fuck's sake Ryouta, shut up!_ ”

Shougo grabbed the collar of Ryouta's shirt, manhandled him and almost shoved him against the tree—the knight didn't bat an eye and kept a neutral face, eyes slightly clouded by coldness. Shougo was snarling and Ryouta was doing nothing to pacify him, because he didn't have the strength to nor did he want to stop him; he had known the prince for his whole life and knew that letting him burst out was the best solution—despite the fact his whole body was calling for the opposite, and asked him to try soothing Shougo or to say something he wanted to hear because he knew, knew and _knew_ what the prince was expecting.

“This is why I fucking hate when you're doing your knightly stuff!” Shougo yelled. “You're giving me those looks like _I_ 'm the one in the wrong even though you're as much at fault as me! You know I don't want to get married to that woman. She's probably the best choice among all the other noble families but I don't want a fucking unknown girl in my life.”

Ryouta could have said something. Could have said the one thing his prince wanted to hear, had wanted for months and months, maybe years. Instead, although he averted his eyes because his mask was breaking, although the ringing in his ears was driving him insane, he shakily breathed out and blurted out, “A prince is a prince, a knight is a knight. I am doing my duty, Shougo-sama.”

He knew what was coming.

Shougo did shove him against the tree and kissed him. _Hard_. He was just driven by desire and anger and his lips weren't gentle or soft in the least, pressing too much and bruising faster than they should, his tongue licking every part it could reach and maybe along the way he tried to bite. Ryouta was torn between responding and rejecting the kiss but his instincts took over and somehow his tongue found its way to Shougo's but he barely registered what he was doing and he probably was clenching his fists too tightly.

Shougo broke apart, breathing heavily and seemed calmer but still angry.

“You hypocrite,” he spat. “You fucking asshole.”

Ryouta was panting and wasn't looking at his prince, but he knew he was being glared at. He lightly pushed him back, dropping his head and trying to control his wavering voice.

“Please Shougo, try to understand,” he mumbled, close to tears. “I'm—We're not allowed to do that. People won't accept it. You need to have children, I have to protect your family and the country and... this isn't our choice to make.”

Shougo never relaxed, never seemed to have been affected by Ryouta's words, but he looked away, now at arm-distance. Ryouta didn't raise his head.

“This is bullshit,” he scoffed. “As if I'll let someone dictate my life. I'm tired of all this, Ryouta. But you can't make up your mind and it's annoying me.”

“I _can't_ decide, Shougo!” Ryouta cried out.

The prince scowled and turned his back to his knight. He ignored the stifled sobs that escaped Ryouta even though he had only one urge, taking him in his arms and forgetting about everything, about titles and ranks and classes. Instead he started walking, away from the source of his heartache and fighting the lump that was forming in his throat. He didn't ask to have a stupid knight seize his heart.

Ryouta let himself slump against the tree, crouching and calming his sobs, still feeling heavy and trapped. It always ended like that, yet every time he couldn't make any decision that would help him. He was just a mess afterwards and he didn't want to think about it because it made everything hurt and ache and tremble. He didn't ask to have devotion turned into something else.

They didn't ask to fall.

 

**Author's Note:**

> if you want to know, this is supposed to be a chaptered fic..... after i've thought about it long enough haha


End file.
